"Public support for an alliance with the Mushroom Fortress has run higher than we expected. The voices in favor have completely drowned out any opposition."
"Well, it is something straight out of a miracle. Rising from the dead like that."
"Indeed. A miracle." Lorenzo tilted his head back, watching the last strip of dusk fade from the sky. "And yet so... abundantly common. With this many reborn-mushrooms in plain sight, our own resurrection methods, costly as they are, start looking rather underwhelming by comparison."
Alama said, "I wouldn't put it that way. Those who turned into mushrooms came back without their old levels or strength."
The two moved on to the question of the formal alliance. The public reaction had settled things: there would be no significant opposition. But before signing anything official, someone needed to make a proper visit to the Mushroom Fortress in person.
"You're sure you want to go yourself?" Lorenzo frowned. "That means crossing the underground rift. Let my son handle it."
Alama shook his head. "I want to see with my own eyes how Inanna is actually living. Don't worry about security. The Hero is back, and I've already spoken with Airaven. He'll hold the new defensive nodes in my stead for the time being."
Seeing that Alama's mind was made up, Lorenzo let it go.
The next day, Lorenzo set off with the Hero's party for Oath City, where he and Sophia would pool all their intelligence.
Alama, for his part, headed for the Puchi underground city with Inanna at his side.
Left behind in the manor city were only the Sword Saint Puchi and his fifteenth disciple, who had rushed over a few days ago upon hearing the news.
The slightly awkward recognition between them had been settled on the day #15 arrived. Since then, #15 had spent every waking moment trying to digest the fact that his master had become a Puchi.
Now, #9, who had come along with #15, was busying himself with unsolicited comfort for the Sword Saint Puchi. "Who'd have thought you weren't a natural-born mushroom either! But it doesn't matter, I still think of you as a little brother. And hasn't the Boss already given you the name No. 14? That means the Boss has a place for you in his heart. You don't need to be ashamed of not having been a Puchi from the start!"
Behind them, #15 was caught between the memory of his master in his prime and the sight of that dopey #9 and his roundish former master standing side by side, bonding like long-lost siblings.
He couldn't hold it in.
"Pfft..."
The Sword Saint: "
"
"
"Come to think of it, #15," the Sword Saint Puchi turned around, "have you been keeping up with your sword practice while I was gone?"
"Y-yes. I have." #15 felt a bad premonition rising.
The Sword Saint Puchi slowly drew the four longswords from his back. "Words aren't proof. It's been a while. Let's have a bout."
A straight sparring match, #15 would have been perfectly happy with. But he knew his master.
"Master, I just sneezed just now. I wasn't laughing..."
"Oh? You want a challenge!" #9 wrapped a tentacle around #15, propped him up, and vaulted onto his head. "Don't think winning once means you'll keep winning. I'll have you know that #15 and I together can handle dragons without breaking a sweat. One wrong move and we'll blow you apart!"
"Fine. Both of you at once." The Sword Saint Puchi stood on the battlements, backlit by the sky, his shadow falling over his disciple.
"Arrogant jerk. #15, let's blow him apart!"
Urged on by #9's eagerness, #15 drew his sword with the look of a man walking to his own execution.
---
Elsewhere, in the deep reaches of the Puchi underground city.
Alama stood before the spatial rift leading north, staring at the metal frame mounted around its edges with an expression of disbelief.
Lin Jun had installed it to keep any idiot who came through from getting sliced by the unstable spatial forces at the rift's border. It was hollow inside. Purely mundane.
But to Alama's eyes, it was clearly some new Mushroom Fortress technology for stabilizing the edges of spatial rifts.
He quietly noted it to himself, regretting that he had no expertise in magic. If it had been Lorenzo standing here instead, something might have come of it.
A blast of arctic wind swept through the rift from the north. Alama shivered.
He activated the temperature-regulating ring on his finger, then reached into his coat for a second one, meaning to hand it to Inanna...
A flicker of the Ice Element Lord's blessing passed over Inanna. The wind hit her and she didn't so much as furrow her brow.
Before she could look his way, Alama quietly put the spare ring back.
The moment they entered the Mushroom Garden, the fungal folk swarmed them. #4 was first, launching straight into Inanna's arms. The rest crowded the mycelial network, grumbling and squabbling over "each mushroom only gets ten minutes before they have to swap."
Alama watched his daughter's face: easy, content, laughing and chatting with these round little creatures in a way he had never once seen her do with people. Something complicated stirred in his chest.
It wasn't until they entered the Mushroom Fortress proper that his gaze finally shifted from Inanna to the city itself. The Fortress, with its odd name, was more prosperous and beautiful than he had imagined.
Not the beauty of the strange mushroom decorations covering every surface, or the bizarre Puchi statue in the central plaza. It was the look on the faces of the people who lived here.
Alama had spent most of his life manning border fortresses. He had seen demonkind up close, vicious and feral, so much so he'd half-started to think that was simply how they were.
But the demonkind in this city, even the guards who were supposed to be intimidating, wore the same loose, unhurried expressions as old farmhands heading home after a day's work. There was not a shred of aggression on them.
They had fought a war against the Empire not long ago, and yet there was no trace of the tension that followed a war. None at all.
What struck him even more was the order.
From the moment he entered the city, he had been watching. A settlement this large, with this many people, and no chaos whatsoever.
Alama even made a point of leaving the main roads and threading through the back alleys and side streets, and found no sign of any gray-market business.
He couldn't even find a single pickpocket, and every city had those.
"Can it actually be done to this degree?" he murmured to himself. "The management required for this..."
Inanna, walking beside him, wasn't thinking about any of that. She was simply lost in the joy of finally getting to share her "paradise" with her father, and enthusiastically introduced him to the Fortress's most notable landmark: the Bell.
The Bell, that cruel contraption that took such evident pleasure in tormenting the undead, was the first thing in the entire Mushroom Fortress that gave Alama a flicker of familiar "reality."
He gave it an extremely high commendation when he returned home.
---
Not long after Alama came back, the United Kingdom formally announced its alliance with the Mushroom Fortress.
In the Victory Plaza of Oath City, the Marshal Puchi, draped in an oversized crimson cape, and Duke Lorenzo clasped hand and tentacle in front of everyone gathered to witness it.
The only thing that left Alama with a vague, lingering strangeness was that the Fungus Lord, still using that same child's voice, seemed subtly different from the last time. A minor detail. He didn't pursue it.
The Marshal Puchi waved its tentacles in graceful farewell to each departing noble. When the crowd had finally cleared, it slipped into an empty corner.
A tentacle reached into its belly and drew out the vocal apparatus, nearly worn out from overuse, and set it on the fungal mat.
Lin Jun watched the mat slowly dissolve it, feeling a pang of genuine regret.
Among the D-tier agents, ones who could produce a natural baby voice that convincing weren't exactly common. Maybe next time he should spend some Life Water. Get a few more copies out of the same one. Sustainable resource extraction.
(End of Chapter)
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